Never Again
by meamsusan
Summary: It's not easy being a fashion/make up savvy highschool Brit. Arthur knows first hand.


I'm screwed. I'm screwed. The only words running through my mind at the moment was break and fast. Wait , scratch that. The fact that I forgot that breakfast was two words is just another sign that I'm screwed. And how do I mean breakfast? I mean it in the way that I had two cream cheese bagels from breakfast, and that if my interviewer didn't want Philadelphia cream cheese chunks all over her pretty manicure, she had better get them out of the way---cause I'm gonna spew them. Like right now.

My palms twitched under the table and I realized that she was wearing a very small amount of aqua colored liner. And by small, I mean just a strip on her eyelid. I mean, if you were going to wear bold makeup, why not just wear it and flaunt? I couldn't even notice it until she blinked her eyes for more than three seconds for God's sakes. I bet I could have worn it a lot better. That is, I wouldn't really wear eyeliner, in aqua or any color besides. I mean, that would totally be a neon sign that says " I'm gay" Not that I have anything against gay people. I mean, I voted no to prop 8. Well, if I could, I would. She opened her eyes now, and the disgrace of eyeliner disappeared under her disportionately thick eyelashes. (Maybelline, I'd guess, but in my opinion she definitely was NOT born with it) She blinked a few more times before continuing her sentence.

" So why do you think that you should get this position?"

"Um--"

She cut in. " Are there any specific qualities you have that make you qualified?"

Besides not having as nice nails as she did? How about cream cheese bagels? Since that seems like the only thing besides BS that's gonna come out of my mouth in the next ten minutes.

" I--- I like to write."

Right. And all the other few hundred people being interviewed don't. Naw, they liked to watch paint peel. That's exactly why they want to try out for the school newspaper.

She gave me that look, and I knew that was what I was like to her. Like watching paint peel. Wonderful.

" I also--"

" No, I'm moving on to the next question."

Goddammit, you think you'd let me talk first?

I swallowed, and smiled.

" Ok."

I don't know how much more I would be able to take before my bagels reached their limit. Did you know that the cream cheese has 810 calories? If I keep eating like this, I'll put on pounds in no time. But you know what they say, cooks are never skinny.

" Are there any things you do besides school? Anything that you like uniquely?"

I swallowed, the taste of cream cheese distinctly in my mouth. All I had to do was tell the truth. I was an interesting person. Wasn't I?

" I read fashion magazines, you know for the articles and stuff, and I cook in my spare time."

She gave me that look, like what-the-hell-is-wrong-with you before nodding, and scribbling down a few notes.

If I could have face palmed right then, I would have. But that would've have been rude and unprofessional. Not to mention my hands were clammy and sweaty. I was about to wipe them on my pants when I realized that they were Armani. Now I had to wait to go to the restroom to wash my hands, and perhaps throw up my bagels. Great.

I watched the way she was nodding and writing like the stupid paper was talking to her. I wanted to shake her and her last season A-and-F jacket. Like " Hello?! I'm here! Talk to me! I'm an awesome person if you got to know me!" But I stayed silent, because the word awesome was not in my vocabulary. Too blunt and idiotic for me.

She finally looked back up at me, her aqua liner disappearing.

"Arthur." she thought for a second. " Kirkland, was it?"

I nodded. Bloody hell. At least remember my name, why don't you?

She smiled, or at least tried to. It was more like a grimace. I watched her cheek muscles fail, and thought about telling her to try botox. You know, it's never too early to look young.

" I had fun interviewing you, Arthur." Poor cheek muscles. Looks like they overwork themselves. " I hope you did too, and thank you."

_Translation: I didn't appreciate intereviewing you when I could have been on a date with my color-blind boyfriend. I hope that you know you utterly screwed yourself up. Give up hope, man._

I smiled back.

" Thanks to you too." I'm gonna puke, I'm gonna puke, I'm gonna ----- I staggered out the door and waved goodbye.

I rushed to the nearest trash can, dumping my backpack on the ground. As I looked into the middle of the dark, bottomless expanse of the trash bag, my stomach gave a lurch and I felt my digestive juices turn. But in the end, nothing came out.

I'm never eating bagles and cream cheese ever again.

* * *

**I totally screwed up my interview today. Should've tried hypnosis like the Youtube video recommended. Dang it. Please review and make my (not so great) day! :D**


End file.
